A Single Barrel
by annafan
Summary: Alternative version of chapter 19 of Adventures outside Middle Earth: the encounter that was "glossed over" in the T-rated version. Helena has been looking after her "ethereally beautiful" visitor from another world since he appeared from nowhere, wounded and in need of help. M for a reason, please do not read if sexual scenes aren't your thing, or if you're not old enough.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 19 – A single barrel, out of bond. (Alternative version)**

**Disclaimer: None of Tolkien's wonderful characters are mine, I am merely borrowing them.**

**Author's Note: This is the M-rated alternative version of Chapter 19 of my story "Adventures outside Middle Earth". It would probably help if you read this first, as I'm not sure that this will work if viewed simply as PWP. But since I'm sure some people won't read the story so here is a recap so far...**

_The story so far: The walls between worlds have thinned, and Galadriel is worried both by the invasion of mary sues from our world and the threat of more serious consequences, in particular the threat posed if dark magical forces from Middle Earth combine with the sophisticated military technology in our world. So she sends Legolas into our world, but things go wrong – he gets injured in the process, and is found bleeding from an arrow wound by two young women, Helena and Lottie. Lottie is a medic and treats Legolas's wounds, while Helena, a cosmologist, sets about researching how she can send him back to his own world. Legolas has no recollection of the events immediately prior to finding himself in our world, and has no idea that Galadriel has sent him here. He finds himself stranded, staying in Helena's spare room. Meantime, her friends are all aware of the growing attraction between Helena and Legolas. They, of course, have spent a long time in denial about their feelings, and even now are not aware that they are reciprocated. (There is also a complicated set of subplots, involving Gimli trying to track down modern earth weaponry that's found its way into the hands of a Haradrim warlord and shady defence contractors here kidnapping orcs for as yet undisclosed reasons. And Galadriel's growing obsession with fanfiction, to the extent that she's created her own Mary Sue, who is now in pursuit of Haldir. Oh, and a running gag about Celeborn's fears that Legolas will end up subject to an Mpreg. In other words, large chunks of this are written firmly tongue in cheek. But if you want to find out about these you really will have to read the whole thing. ). So, on with the story..._

"OK, I have a plan," said Lottie. "So cunning you could put a tail on it..."

"This is so not a good idea," muttered Tom.

"No, my birthday, my rules." The doorbell rang. Lottie went to the door and found Matt and Jonathan there.

"Happy birthday, gorgeous," said Matt and gave her a kiss. "Helena and Legolas here yet?"

"We are now," said Helena's voice from behind him. "Happy birthday, Lottie," she added, and gave her a hug.

"So, what's the line up for tonight's festivities?" asked Matt.

"Pizza, cake and beer. A lot of beer," said Lottie, gesturing towards the barrel of ale resting in the corner. Legolas smiled. In fact, it was almost a smirk.

"And," Tom added, "a handicapping system." He produced two half pint glasses and three pint glasses.

"We seem to be missing a glass," said Legolas, intrigued as to where this was going.

"This," said Tom, putting a huge glass on the table, "is a German beer stein I got at the Munich beer festival a couple of years ago. And this," adding a small tumbler and a large green bottle, "is a bottle of Laphroaig. Only 10 years old. But still bloody good. The rules are simple. The girls drink halves, the men drink pints, and the elf drinks German beer steins with double whisky chasers."

"I can do pints," said Lottie in an outraged voice. Tom produced an extra pint glass. Legolas had an uncomfortable flashback to a thousand years earlier, when he, Elrohir and Elladan had liberated some Dorwinion wine from his father's cellars. It was going to be a long night.

Several hours later Legolas felt slightly unsteady. He set his empty beer glass on the windowsill and glanced across the room at Helena. She was laughing at something Lottie had said, eyes sparkling, head thrown back. She was wearing a deep red top against which her brown hair fell in waves. The neckline was not particularly low, but low enough to show her collar bones, and Legolas suddenly found himself wondering what it would be like to run his fingers along them, to trace the line of her neck with his lips. Wondering what it would be like to cup her full breasts in his hands. Wondering what she would look like beneath her clothes. He shook his head in a vain attempt to clear it. Somehow, without consciously deciding to, he found himself moving over to where she was sitting.

He flopped onto the couch beside Helena, his movements rather less coordinated than usual. Helena shut her eyes for a moment, wondering how on earth she was going to avoid letting anything of her feelings show, especially after this much alcohol. She could feel the warmth from his body against her arm, his leg brushing hers.

"How much have you had to drink?" she asked.

"Seven, maybe eight of those big glasses and the whisky to go with it," he answered. "I am beginning to feel a little odd, I must admit."

"You're going to feel rough tomorrow," Helena chuckled. "Never mind, it's my turn to bring you orange juice."

"I shall look forward to it, _meleth nin_," said Legolas, looking at her intently. Helena suddenly realised that she had effectively promised to come into his bedroom in the morning and felt a wave of embarrassment, and something else, desire maybe, wash over her. Her stomach tightened, some other part, still lower, seemed to ache with an emptiness waiting to be filled. She gazed up at his deep blue eyes. She brushed the feelings away and tried to keep her voice light.

"You really are drunk. You're slurring your words, _mellon nin,_" she said.

"No," answered Legolas, still staring at her as though she was the only person in the room. "It's just that your Sindarin is next to non-existent, _meleth nin,_" he added, carefully emphasising the last two words.

"So are you going to tell me what the subtle difference is? Not that I think you're in any state to do subtle."

"Maybe later," said Legolas. He brushed a stray strand of hair away from her face and smiled at her.

Behind them, unnoticed by Helena, Jonathan choked on his drink and darted into the kitchen, where he stood, shoulders shaking, knuckles thrust into his mouth to stifle his laughter.

"What's so funny?" asked Matt.

"I think Lottie's evil plan is working," Jonathan replied, in a muffled voice.

"Well, of course it is. I am an evil genius, doncha know," said Lottie, following him through the door.

"What in particular makes you think that?" Matt continued his questioning.

"Well, assuming my Sindarin is better than Helena's, and given that I am not a philistine scientist, I think we can safely make that assumption..."

"Get to the point, my artsy-fartsy pedant."

"Legolas just called Helena 'my love'." Lottie caught Jonathan by the hands and launched into a triumphant jig. As she whirled him round, Jonathan noticed that Matt looked rather less surprised by this news than he'd hoped. In fact, it seemed almost as if his face bore a tinge of sadness.

Back in the sitting room, Legolas had no difficulty overhearing the conversation. _Oh, so now everyone knows except Helena,_ he realised with a guilty start. For her part, Helena sat snuggled against him, relishing the warm feel of his body next to hers, wishing she could stay like that for ever, wondering what it would feel like to have his arms around her again, what would happen if this time she made no attempt to run. She felt a blanket of sleepiness descend over her, in part due to the beer (though she had been careful not to drink as much as Lottie had intended her to). She gave a huge yawn.

"I think I need to get you home," said Legolas.

"Hmmph, after the amount you've drunk what makes you so sure it won't be the other way round," said Helena. Legolas got to his feet and stuck his head round the kitchen door.

"I'm taking Helena home before she falls asleep where she's sitting," he said. "Happy birthday, Lottie."

"Don't do anything I wouldn't," said Jonathan, with a smirk, then added, "Actually, scratch that, I'm gay – feel free to get up to all sorts of things that I wouldn't even consider." Legolas scowled at him, annoyed at the human's seeming ability to read his mind.

"Goodnight, Jonathan. By the way, I still have really good hearing even when I'm drunk."

"Yeah, yeah, it's the control over what you're saying that seems to be suffering," said Jonathan with a laugh. Legolas responded with a rude hand gesture he'd picked up from Cathy.

He made his way back to the couch, followed by Lottie. He offered a hand to Helena and pulled her to her feet. Lottie brought them their coats.

"Thanks for a great party, Lottie," said Helena, with a grin. "Hope you remember it tomorrow."

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

Legolas waited till they were round the corner, out of sight of Lottie's house. Suddenly, he reached out and took Helena's hand, pulling her round to face him. She found herself staring up at him. Strands of his hair blew in the light wind, his high cheekbones looking, in the dim light, as though they had been carved from some rare and precious stone, his eyes fixed intently on hers. His free arm reached out and snaked round her waist, pulling her part way towards him, but not too close, while he continued to gaze with a questioning look in his eyes. He released her hand and moved his own up to her cheek, stroking her hair away from her face.

"Why did you run from me the other night?" he asked. He heard her take a deep breath, watched the familiar slight tilt of her chin as she steeled herself to answer.

"Panic. I'm scared," she said simply. Legolas immediately loosened his grasp.

"Of me?" he said, pain and regret in his voice.

"No, not you. I could never be scared of you. Of my feelings. Of what they would do to me if I let go," she replied. Hesitantly, she slid her hand up his arm till it came to rest on his shoulder. "You're immortal, you're beautiful, you're from a different world, and one day you're going to go back to that world, and where would that leave me?" Her voice dropped to a whisper. "If I let myself go, if I let myself love you, I don't know how I'd find a way back. I feel like I'm clinging on to the last vestiges of sanity before it's too late." Legolas's hand returned to its earlier resting place, caressing her cheek once more, fingertips so light a touch that they traced her skin like a passing breeze.

"It's already too late for me, Helena,_ meleth nin _… my love. I love you," he said.

Helena gave a gasp of surprise, eyes widening. As if of its own volition, her hand drifted up to touch his cheek, her gesture mirroring his. It was enough. His arm tightened round her waist, pulling her against him, other hand sliding back into her hair, long fingers tangling in the soft brown strands. His lips brushed hers. Their first touch was gentle, soft, barely a whisper. He drew back, gazing into her eyes. Her hands snaked around the back of his shoulders, lips parting slightly, and he leant in and kissed her again, this time harder. Helena found herself returning the kiss, tentatively at first, then with increasing boldness. As if answering, his lips and tongue teased and caressed, coaxed and demanded by turns, and she responded in kind, with an almost desperate intensity, running her tongue over his lips, darting within his mouth, tasting him. It seemed as though her whole body was aflame. She threaded her hand through his long, incredibly soft hair, and felt him pull her in closer still. Helena felt as if their bodies were melting into one, flowing against each other.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

It took a while to get back to the flat. The ten minute walk stretched out to more like half an hour. Helena and Legolas walked, arms round one another, halting at frequent intervals to exchange ever more heated kisses. They stumbled through the door of the flat, Helena struggling with the key as Legolas pulled her against him once more. As the door swung shut, she felt him bring his lips down on hers once more. She moaned softly as he drew her against his body. As her lips parted, she felt his tongue flick inside her mouth. She put her hand up to his jaw line, brushing her own tongue against his. He spun her round till she stood with her back against the wall, the length of his body pressing against hers. Her eyes fluttered closed, then opened wide as his hand slid down over her behind and pulled her hips close against him. Through his jeans, she could feel an unmistakeable hardness pressing against her groin. Without any conscious thought, she swayed her hips, rubbing herself against him, delighting in the answering gasp he gave. He broke the kiss only to trail his lips down her neck, nipping gently at her shoulder. She responded by trailing her lips along the edge of his ear, licking the pointed tip. She heard a low groan come from him, and he slid the hand which had been tangled in her hair down over her shoulder, down her side, then back up her front to cup her breast. It was her turn to groan as she felt his thumb circle her nipple. Despite the layers of fabric, she felt as though every nerve was coursing with electric shocks.

Through the lust-addled fog where her brain had once been, some part of her demanded to know whether it was right to let their physical attraction run away with them.

"Where are we going with this?" she whispered, a pleading note to the question.

"I want to take you to my bed," he replied, hips moving against her again to leave no doubt as to what he had mind, before shifting away slightly and adding sadly, "But you are too drunk, I must not."

"Not as drunk as you think," she said. "Though Lottie's house-plants may not make it through the night,"she added with a giggle, then continued, "and in any case, the answer would still be yes if I was sober, I'd just be too shy to say it." She paused and looked at him thoughtfully, then said, "Though I'd hate to feel_ I_ was taking advantage of you while you were drunk."

"You seem to be forgetting how much elves can drink. I have not drunk so much that I cannot judge what I desire. And I desire you with all my soul."

She smiled and took his hands, drawing him across the room. "My bed is bigger," she said, kicking off her shoes. She led him slowly towards the door to the sitting room, through the hall, and into her own room.

As she pushed the bedroom door shut behind them, an abrupt change of feeling swept over her. She felt suddenly stone-cold sober, almost as if icy water had been thrown over her, and unaccountably, excruciatingly shy. Legolas picked up on the shift in her mood immediately. He brought one hand up to caress her cheek, leaving a space between them.

"We do not have to do this, _meleth nin_. I do not want to do anything you are not comfortable with."

"I just feel really shy. I know this sounds ridiculous, I'm 30 for heaven's sake, but I've never actually done this before," Helena said. "I suppose I'm what you'd call a late starter," she added with a rueful smile.

"Neither have I," said Legolas, with an answering smile. Helena's eyes widened in surprise.

"But you're ..."

"A very late starter," he said with a laugh. He fell silent, and his smile faded to be replaced by an intent expression. Helena felt as though she might drown in his deep blue eyes. She realised he was waiting for her, waiting to find out what she wanted. She took his hands once more, and sat down on the bed, pulling him towards her.

"Can we just, I don't know, be together and see where things go?" She found herself reduced to a near-inarticulate mess of confusion. Shyness, lust, trepidation, love, even fear, all were doing battle for supremacy. She felt washed away on a tide of emotions, she who was normally so rational, so in control of her thought processes. She realised that this was at the root of her fear. She was so used to using her intellect that she had almost come to believe that it defined who she was. To be at the mercy of her feelings made it seem almost as though she was losing her grip on her very being. She shut her eyes, and took a deep breath.

Suddenly, the bed sagged beside her, and she realised Legolas had sat down next to her. She looked to find that he was engaged in the rather prosaic task of pulling his boots off. Somehow, the mundanity of the action calmed her. She threaded her arm round his waist and settled her cheek on his shoulder, breathing in the heathery scent of him. Boots cast to the floor, he turned slightly towards her and brushed his lips very gently against hers. He took her in his arms and lowered her gently onto the mattress so that they ended up lying side by side, facing one another. Softly, he stroked her cheek, then kissed her over and over again, delicate kisses to start with, the heat gradually rebuilding in both of them. She felt his hands stroking up and down her back, before one came to rest on the bare flesh at her waist where her top had ridden up. She gave an involuntary gasp and trembled under his hand, feeling as if her skin was on fire where he touched her. Shyly, she reached out and slid her hand under the edge of his t-shirt.

His skin felt marvellously warm beneath her fingers, and as she moved her hand across the small of his back and up his spine, the smoothness of his skin contrasted with the firmness of the muscles underneath. Every so often her questing fingers encountered a scar, memories of his warrior life. In return, his hands ran over her skin, his lips tracing patterns on her neck and along her collar bone. She gave a gasp. Without really thinking about what she was doing, she took hold of the bottom of his shirt and started to raise it up. He raised himself on one elbow to allow her to pull his shirt off. She sat up and knelt on the bed so as to reach over his head.

Helena's mouth went dry. He was slender, but muscular, wiry even, with broad shoulders. His arms showed well defined biceps, sinewy forearms. She reached out a hand and traced down over his chest muscles, then let her fingers trace over his stomach muscles. Legolas shut his eyes and let his head tip backwards, a sharp intake of breath showing the effect she was having on him. She could see grooves either side of his abs, a V shape pointing tantalisingly downwards. Letting her gaze drift lower, she could see the evidence of his arousal, his erection straining against the fabric.

He opened his eyes and looked straight at her, his pupils wide and eyes dark with want. He reached out and took the hem of her top. Slowly, agonisingly slowly, he drew it up and over her head. Then to her surprise, he gave a smile, incongruous in the circumstances. His index finger traced the edge of her bra.

"What is this ridiculous garment?" he asked, with a teasing tone.

"It's my bra. It supports my breasts. Why do you think it's ridiculous?" she asked, feeling a little deflated, the mood interrupted by his amusement. "Human men find it sexy."

He raised an eyebrow. "The garment? No. But I think I will find what is underneath desirable beyond my wildest imaginings," he said, his smile turning mischievous and promising, sliding his hands round the band across her back. "If only I can find out how to take it off."

"Here, let me," she replied, reaching up behind her back. He slid his hands onto her shoulders, and as she released the clasp at the back, he gently slid the straps down her arms, tugging the silky cloth away to release her breasts. Helena found herself transfixed by the look on his face. He gazed on her, face filled with wonder, murmuring in Elvish, as if the sight before him had washed away his ability to speak anything but his own language. He ran his fingers from her shoulders down over her breasts, his thumbs brushing her nipples. It was Helena's turn to shut her eyes, wanting to shut out all sensations but the tactile explosion taking place in her mind. Gently, he cupped one of her breasts in his hand, ducking his head down to kiss the nipple, then run his tongue across it and suck at it. Helena couldn't speak either; she was reduced to inarticulate moans of pleasure. It felt as though there was some mysterious connection between her nipples and the warm, sensitive place between her legs. She felt blood rush there, her pulse pounding, and could feel the wetness pooling there. She tangled her hands in Legolas's hair.

"You are so beautiful, _meleth nin_," he said, raising his lips to hers, his tongue caressing hers as she opened her lips. His hands reached round her back and he pulled her into a strong embrace. She could feel her breasts, every inch of skin on her upper body pressed against his. The heat of his skin, the friction as they moved all threatened to undo her grasp on reality. She had never felt anything like this, never imagined anything could be like this. She moaned into his kiss.

"Helena," he gasped. In synchrony, they both released their hold on each other, hands moving to scrabble at the fastenings on the other's trousers. Helena no longer had her wits about her sufficiently to know quite how it happened, but it seemed only moments before they both gazed at one another's bodies, completely naked. Helena's eyes widened at the long, hard length of him. She reached out and stroked its length, fingers trailing through the moisture at the tip. Legolas gave a deep groan, then ran his fingers up the inside of her thigh till they met the warm wetness between her legs. He began to stroke, slowly and deliberately. She couldn't help herself. Her hips lifted and moved in time with his strokes.

"Are you … Do you want..." he couldn't find the words.

"I want you, all of you," she murmured and he rolled on top of her, his hardness pressing against her. He thrust slowly against her, then paused.

"Your maidenhood... it seems more resilient than I'd expected..."

"Uh, umm, that's actually the top of my thigh..."

They looked at one another for several seconds, then both dissolved into laughter.

"Oronwe's balls, I am drunker than I thought. And... I don't know what I'm doing..." Legolas looked crestfallen. Helena gently stroked his hair.

"Neither do I. Maybe we should do a bit more exploring first." She reached down and took the hard length of him in her hand, stroking up and down. "Does this feel good?"

"Yesss," came the sibilant moan beside her ear, leaving her in no doubt that she'd got the rhythm right. He rolled onto his side, and slid his hand back between her legs, starting to stroke her in time with her movements. As he felt her hips begin to sway once more, he slid one, then two fingers inside, making circling motions with his thumb.

"Oh God, yes, keep doing that," Helena gasped, head thrown back on the pillow, back arched, hips moving up against his hand, pressing herself onto his fingers, grinding against his thumb. She started to stroke him more rapidly. They took their cues from each other's movements and the noises filling the bedroom. Helena felt the heat between her legs building, then it was as if warmth flooded her stomach, and tingling sparks shot down her legs. She shuddered and bucked her hips as the muscles deep within her clenched round his fingers, crying out his name. Still dizzy with sensation, she felt him tense and shudder, then felt his hot seed spill over her hand, sticky over her belly. Relaxing, he half rolled across her, his head on her shoulder. She felt as though every bone in her body had dissolved. In utter languor, she sprawled back on the bed, one hand still on his groin, her other hand trailing through his hair, feeling his legs tangled with hers.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

The first thing Legolas realised was that he had been asleep, properly asleep. The second thing was that his head felt like an orc had buried a battle axe in it. The third thing was that Helena was snuggled in his arms, her head resting on his chest, the softness of her cheek warm against his skin. Legolas's eyes flew open. His mind suddenly filled with vivid recollections of the previous night. Very vivid indeed. He felt a wave of desire, combined with an overwhelming sense of love for the woman next to him. Then he remembered how drunk they had been and for a moment, he was assailed by a nagging feeling of guilt. Then he remembered more of the events, the way Helena had pulled him into her room, the way she had met his desire with an equal desire of her own, until they had lain, completely spent, in the midst of twisted sheets.

Legolas smiled at the memory, and stroked Helena's hair. Suddenly he felt utterly content simply to lie there and watch her in the early morning half-light, the way her eyelashes fluttered slightly in sleep, the curve of her cheek, the line of her jaw, her neck, the gentle rise and fall of her chest.

He lost track of how long he lay with her cradled in his arms, taking in every detail. Eventually, there was a soft murmur, and her head moved against him, her arms stretching slightly. She opened her eyes and looked at him, with a mixture of shyness and wonder. He smiled at her, and she responded with a dazzling smile of her own. Helena felt herself drawn close in strong arms. Legolas leaned in and kissed her.

"In case you had forgotten," he said, "I love you."

"And I love you," she replied, adding in a teasing tone, "How are you feeling after the beer? I seem to remember promising to get you orange juice"

"That would," he said, placing a whisper of a kiss on her forehead, "mean …," another kiss on her cheek, "letting you...," a line of kisses along the curve of her jaw, an answering sigh from her, "get out…," more kisses down her throat to the hollow at the base of her neck, an intake of breath, "of bed...," kisses back up the side of her neck, "which would be...," a touch of a kiss under her ear, rewarded with a soft moan, "a great..." a kiss at the corner of her mouth, "waste." And he covered her mouth with his own, feeling her thread her fingers through his hair and meet his kiss with equal fervour.

Helena felt herself growing dizzy with desire as Legolas kissed her deeply. She thrilled to the feel of his bare chest against her breasts. The warmth and heat and softness of his skin contrasted with the delicious friction as her nipples rubbed against him. She could feel his growing arousal pressing against her thigh. She let her hands drift over his back, feeling the sharp angle of his shoulder blades and the firm muscles. Her hands slid lower, down the taper of his waist and on towards narrow hips. For a moment she hesitated, shy in the face of new, unexplored territory, then followed her instincts and cupped his buttocks with her hands. She found herself turned on even more by the firmness of the muscles and drew him against her. Legolas gave a shaky, breathless groan. He raised his torso slightly, then slipped one of his hands between their bodies, sliding it downwards till he could dip his fingers into the damp heat between her legs and stroke her slowly. It was Helena's turn for her breath to catch, before she let out a long, aching sigh. She kissed him again, then reached round and gently took his wrist, drawing his hand away.

"I have an idea," she whispered huskily. She reached back between them and wrapped her fingers round his hard shaft. Slowly, she began to stroke the tip across herself, from the sensitive tangle of nerves to her moist opening and back.

Legolas gasped, his breathing ragged, and murmured in Elvish once more, before adding, "I think I've died and gone to paradise."

"I want you," whispered Helena, and paused, holding his cock against her slick opening. Legolas took the invitation and gently pushed against her, and this time Helena felt him slide part way inside her. She gave an involuntary gasp. His shaft was so much bigger than his fingers had been the night before.

"Have I hurt you?" Legolas said, stopping. His face was full of concern.

"It's a little bit painful," she answered, unable to do anything but be honest as she looked up at his deep blue eyes. "But I want you, I want all of you." In response Legolas slid his hand between them, and began to circle his thumb, waiting till he felt her muscles relax. Helena trembled at the magical feelings his strokes evoked, and without even being aware of it, started to move her hips against him. Legolas gently eased himself further in, until he was completely enveloped by the hot, velvet strength of her. He brought his mouth down onto hers, caressing her lips with a gentle passion.

Helena shifted her hips against him. The initial sharpness of the pain had worn off, and the lingering memories of it were swamped by the incredible feeling of him filling her. She realised what the empty ache of desire she had felt the night before had been driven by. It was the instinctive need to feel this, to feel every inch of him buried within her, to wrap herself round him and move against him, with him. Sensing her movements, he began to move within her, cautiously at first, then gradually building up to long strokes, withdrawing almost to the tip before plunging his whole length back within her. Helena let out a series of gasps in time with his thrusts. Legolas gradually speeded the movements of his hand on the soft, downy triangle where her thighs met. She reached down with her hands and gripped his arse, seeking to gain purchase and pull him into her completely. She felt slow waves of heat building, radiating outwards, up through her belly and down along her thighs. The world seemed to contract to a narrow sphere centred on their joined bodies. Then all sensation shattered into fragments as she clutched him to her, wrapping her heels around his hips, dimly aware of his rhythm breaking erratically as he shuddered and spent himself within her, his weight collapsing on top of her.

He brought his hands up to caress her shoulders and stroke her cheeks, pressing his forehead against hers for a moment, before sliding down and settling his blond head on her bosom. She stroked his back, feeling the trickle of sweat running down his spine.

"I love you more than life itself," he whispered, and kissed her skin, tender, butterfly-light kisses.

Helena found herself murmuring lines of poetry she had learned years earlier, at school.

"_Thou, Sun, art half as happy as we,_

_In that the world's contracted thus..._

_Shine here to us and thou art everywhere,_

_This bed thy centre is, these walls thy sphere."_

It was several more hours before they finally got out of bed.

**XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX**

**Author's Notes: The poem is (a rather imperfectly remembered version of) John Donne's "The Sunne, Rising."**

**Can I draw your attention to the review button? This is my first attempt at anything like this, and I'd like to know if it's any good. If it is, I may do similar versions for some of the other chapters. If I don't get any reviews, it'll be back to the land of the T-rated for me...**


	2. 21: The Allure of a Bad Movie

**Chapter 21 **–** The curious allure of the truly bad movie.**

**Usual disclaimers apply – just having fun, don't own anything...**

**The M-rated version. Just felt like trying to write this. As before, this won't work that well without the rest of the story (especially the bit at the end of the chapter, which will just seem really odd taken out of context).**

**So, having left you all poised on the edge of the cliff, I'm … going to change the subject. Mwa ha ha.**

On the Monday morning after Lottie's birthday, Helena awoke to realise that, in her satiated daze, she had forgotten to set the alarm.

"Oh shit, I'm going to be late for the seminar," she said. Legolas rolled over and looked at her. A very busy Sunday had left him sufficiently tired that he too had succumbed to sleep.

"I'm already late," he said.

"You shower first then," said Helena.

"We could speed things up by sharing the shower," said Legolas, with a smile. "I could wash your back..."

Which was how Helena came to find herself with her back against the tiles, legs wrapped round Legolas's waist, feeling his cock deep inside her. His thrusts drew gasps from her in time with his motion; her hands gripped his shoulders, encouraging him to bury himself to the hilt. She felt wave upon wave of pleasure building within her before crying out as the sensations became too much and she reached her climax. He shuddered his release, and they slid down the side of the shower cubicle, coming to rest in a tangle of limbs as the hot water cascaded over their bodies.

"Now we're really late."

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

They had agreed to try to keep things quiet to start with while they got used to the idea of being together; this plan had lasted the best part of ten minutes that morning.

Helena had blown it first; when she had arrived, pink and breathless and several minutes late for her seminar, Matt had given her a knowing look. At coffee after the seminar he had come up to her, smirked at her and enquired how the rest of her weekend had gone. She had murmured something non-committal. Matt had then informed her, helpfully, that she might as well have had a neon sign above her head reading 'Spent whole weekend shagging: it was great.'

Not surprisingly, Legolas had not fared any better when (incurring the boss's wrath) he arrived late at the café. Cathy had been merciless. Later, however, when they had found themselves alone for a few moments, she had been more interesting.

"Be careful with your lass. Be gentle. The men of your kind have a certain reputation."

"What do you mean, _men of my kind_?" Legolas had never been more amazed in his life than by the moments which followed his question; Cathy had reached up and brushed the hair back from his ears.

"My family are from the west of Ireland originally. We still remember about the fay folk there. You'll not up and leave her heartbroken, will you?" Legolas had looked at her in astonishment. Then he had decided to answer her question, taking it at face value.

"Nothing could be further from my intentions. In fact, I think it's rather more likely that I will be the one left heartbroken one day." He remembered deciding on the spur of the moment to explain everything to Cathy, who, to her credit, had listened in sympathetic silence, and had proved unusually discreet.

One brief intrusion into their happiness had been caused by Helena's unwanted dinner with Evans. She had gone to the event with no enthusiasm and considerable trepidation. However, she had steeled herself to think of the importance of the information she might be able to gain, and had tried to draw out of him what his project involved; he had, to her annoyance, refused to be drawn. Then, as he escorted her out, in one of the dark passages between quads, he tried to kiss her. She had pushed him away angrily. At that point, he had made it quite clear that he expected 'payment' for dinner.

"You utter shit,"Helena had shouted at him. "You invited me assuring me it was just a friendly, collegial dinner. And even if it had been a date, only a total misogynist arsehole would assume that that gave him the right to expect more." She had pushed past him, and marched to the porters' lodge, where she insisted on having a taxi called. When she got home and recounted events, Legolas had been torn between fury at Evans' behaviour and amusement at the dressing-down she had administered.

"Did you tell him about us?" he had asked.

"No, because it wasn't his business, and it wasn't the point anyway. I'm not off limits because I _belong _to you, I'm off limits because _I choose to be. _And he really is a total arsehole. Even if I'd never met you, even if he was the last bloody man on earth, I wouldn't touch him with someone else's!"

"I'm guessing you didn't get any useful information out of him, either," Legolas had said, with a laugh.

"No. Bloody hell, I'm so angry. I should have kneed him in the balls." Legolas had wrapped his arms around her.

"I believe this is a rather hackneyed expression, but you really are beautiful when you're angry. Especially when you're angry with someone else."

The other thing which had changed, or perhaps more accurately, developed, following Lottie's birthday was Matt's friendship with Legolas. Matt had been delighted by the two finally admitting to each other how they felt, though he remained worried about the implications that Legolas had explained. But, worries aside, he greatly enjoyed the irony involved in finding himself cast in the unlikely role of advisor on the progress of a heterosexual (and furthermore, interspecies) relationship. Perhaps the strangest conversation this had led to had been the one Legolas had had with Matt while out for a run. The elf had admitted to feeling a bit sad and slightly guilty about how things had started between Helena and himself; surely, he had said, she had deserved to be wooed properly, for him to have taken his time, for him to have taken the trouble to acquaint himself with the customs of her people and court her accordingly. Matt had burst out laughing.

"But you did woo her in accordance with the customs of our people. You both got totally rat-arsed on a Saturday night and ended up shagging each other senseless." When they had got back to Matt's place, he had handed him a slightly dog-eared paperback, _Watching the English_, and had explained that it would help the elf to make sense of a lot of things about the culture in which he found himself.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

One morning a couple of months after Lottie's birthday, Helena woke up to the warm May sunshine coming throught the bedroom window. Legolas lay on his side, head resting on his hand, looking down at her, a faint smile on his face.

"Do you like what you see," asked Helena, raising her eyebrows.

"Maybe... perhaps...," said Legolas, the smile growing broader. "I think I need to take a closer look to be sure." He ran his hand over her shoulder, then down to her breast. His lips sought hers in a long kiss, tongue teasing hers, teeth tugging gently at her lower lip, before his mouth began to trail downwards, down the side of her neck, his tongue licking at her collar bone, before he reached her breast and swirled his tongue round her nipple. Helena let out soft moan and let her head fall back on the pillow.

Encouraged, Legolas resumed the trail of kisses, letting his lips drift over the ridges of her ribs, then down to let his tongue flick into her navel, before kissing her belly. He kissed and licked his way down over her hip bones and the front of her thigh, before gently parting her legs.

"Mmm, your skin is so soft," he whispered, his words a puff of air against the inside of her thighs. He licked her skin, then started to move his lips upwards. Helena threaded her hands through his silky hair and murmured soft words of encouragement. She felt her pulse quicken and the blood rushing to bring heat between her legs. Closer and closer, his lips trailed upwards towards the moist centre between her legs.

"Yes, oh please," was all she could manage to say.

Suddenly he drew his head away, very very slightly, the tiniest distance between his lips and the sensitive skin where her legs joined.

"_Meleth nin,_ you are so very beautiful," he said, his voice the merest whisper, his breath stirring the triangle of her hair, leaving her aching for contact. Agonisingly slowly, he lowered his mouth, and his tongue licked slowly, deliberately, achingly across her clit. He brought his mouth down onto her, sucking gently, swirling his tongue round in delirium-inducing circles. His mouth was hot, so hot, and wet, and as she writhed under him, he slid a couple of fingers inside her and began to stroke them within her.

She lost all sense of anything beyond the heat, his tongue and fingers working on her, until, hands tangling in his hair, the world became a kaleidoscope of colours, waves of heat broke, crashing round her, and she screamed his name. She lay, breath coming in gasps, the world spinning round her, unable to tell where her body ended and his began. She was dimly aware of the fact that she had actually screamed as she climaxed, and felt both embarrassed and at the same time strangely smug.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

Later that day, Legolas and Helena lay on a picnic blanket on the bank of the Thames as it wound its way through Port Meadow. The vivid blue of the sky was reflected in the water, and all the colours, from the green of the grass and trees to the brown of the river bank, seemed preternaturally sharp and vivid. An eight slid gracefully through the water, making a rhythmic splash-swoosh-clunk.

"I don't know what's got into me. I've been so tired the last few days. Not just ordinary tired, exhausted beyond anything I'd ever imagined," said Helena. Legolas frowned and propped himself up on one elbow.

"You should go to see a doctor – and I don't mean promising to have a word with Lottie next time you see her, then forgetting all about it. I mean really going to see your doctor," he said. He reached out and stroked her cheek. "Mortals are fragile. I don't want you to get ill. You work too much. I think maybe you've exhausted yourself."

"I work far less since you started finding ways of distracting me."

"I thought," said Legolas, raising an eyebrow, "that you rather enjoyed it when I distracted you."

"Mmm," said Helena and reached her hand out, pulling his head close for a kiss. As she felt their lips brush together, gently at first, then felt his tongue touch her lips gently, and dart inside her mouth, Helena marvelled that their kisses could still affect her as strongly as the first kiss they'd shared. Legolas ran his hand down her back, resting it in the hollow curve of her waist, and she felt desire course through her at his touch. He broke off from kissing her, and Helena felt his breath on her ear as he started to whisper to her of all the places he would touch her, kiss her, taste her, if they were somewhere more private.

"Maybe we should go home," she murmured in response.

"Later," said Legolas with a wicked glint in his eye. "I'm going to keep you here and tell you all the things I want to do, in the knowledge that we have to behave ourselves while we're out here. It will make things all the better when I finally take you home."

"How did my shy elf suddenly become so confident?" laughed Helena.

"I'm sorry I was so inexperienced when we started," said Legolas. "You deserved so much better." And he told her about the conversation he had had with Matt.

"Don't be silly," said Helena, stroking his hair. "It was lovely. Yes, we were both very shy – if it hadn't been for the beer, I doubt we'd have found the courage to do anything – and yes, neither of us had a clue what we were doing. But that's what made it so sweet. And we seemed to work it out just fine as we went along. And think how much fun we've had learning how to do it better."

"And am I better? Do I please you?" said Legolas, the corners of his mouth twitching.

"Are you fishing for compliments? I think after this morning, you know the answer to that."

"I think after this morning, the whole street knows the answer to that," said Legolas, rolling onto his back with a smug grin. Helena reached out and tickled him under the ribs. The unexpected discovery that the elf was extremely ticklish had proved a source of endless delight to Helena. He squirmed, and captured her wrists.

"I'm never going to be able to look the neighbours in the face again," giggled Helena, turning pink.

"Which reminds me. I was in the middle of telling you about all the things we were going to do when I got you home this evening. I want to hear you scream my name again." Legolas pinned her wrists above her head and rolled on top of her, his voice dropping to a whisper again.

"Which reminds me," said Helena, with the grin she usually reserved for announcing check-mate, "having got both of us all wound up, you may have to wait longer than you thought – Lottie's coming round tonight." Legolas released her wrists and sat up abruptly, and to Helena's surprise, started packing the picnic things away.

"What are you doing? We don't have to go yet."

"Yes we do, we'll only get a couple of hours at home before Lottie arrives."

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

Helena sat in the corner of the couch with her arms wrapped round Legolas, who was stretched out along it, lying against her. Lottie snuggled in the armchair, remote in hand, channel surfing.

"Oh yes, we have _got_ to watch this," she said.

"What is it?" asked Helena, then gave a sudden squeak as Jeff Goldblum and Geena Davis appeared on screen. "No, we can't watch this..."

"Why not? It'll be informative, educational, a good starting point for discussion..." Helena reached over and made a grab for the remote, but Lottie was too quick for her. Helena resorted to covering her face with a cushion and moaning theatrically.

Ten minutes later, Legolas grinned at Lottie.

"Even your choice of films is evil. But I think I've got the joke now, you can switch the TV off. Oh, and just for the record, I'm not now and have never been bright blue."

"No way am I switching this off," said Lottie. "_Earth Girls are Easy_ is a classic. Definitely in the category 'so bad it's good'."

Despite himself, Legolas got quite engrossed in the film. He began to wonder if there was something in the 'so bad it's good' theory. He was, however, puzzled when Geena Davis's character sat up in bed the morning after the night before and started eating small tablets as if her life depended on it.

"I don't get the joke," he said to Lottie.

"They're her birth control pills – the joke is that he's so virile that instead of having to take just one, she's necking the whole packet...," Lottie's voice trailed off, a worried look appearing on her face.

"You mean humans don't control when they're fertile? They have to take medicines to do that?" asked Legolas, curiosity aroused.

"Elves can?"

"Yes, well so I believe, I mean, obviously I'm not female so I'm not quite sure how it works, and I've never been, uh, romatically involved with anyone before Helena, so I never had occasion to ask, but I think female elves can choose when to conceive." Lottie looked in horror from Legolas to Helena.

"Tell me you've been taking the pill," she said.

"Well, of course not. We're different species, remember? I mean, that's more-or-less the definition of different species, that they can't interbreed..."

"Oh, Yavanna!" said Legolas, suddenly understanding Lottie's look of horror. "You still haven't read the book, have you? You don't know about Beren and Luthien, or my friend Aragorn's marriage to Arwen?" Helena looked in confusion from Legolas to Lottie and back.

"So let me get this straight," said Lottie. "You didn't bother with contraception because you thought Helena could control when she conceived," giving a sharp look at Legolas, "and you," giving an equally sharp look at Helena, "didn't bother with contraception because you thought you wouldn't conceive because Legolas is an elf." She gave a deep sigh. "We doctors have a technical, medical term for people like you." Helena and Legolas waited in a state of excruciating embarrassment for the inevitable punchline. "We call you 'parents'." She let the implications sink in for several moments, then switched into 'doctor' mode.

"When was your last period, Helena?"

"Oh, my …. I can't remember exactly, but before Legolas and I …. Oh shit!"

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

It had taken Helena a long time to go to sleep the night before. Legolas had lain with her in his arms, stroking her hair gently and singing softly to her. When she woke the next morning, he leaned towards her to give her a good morning kiss. But before he got anywhere close, she wriggled out of his arms and disappeared at high speed. Legolas followed her, worried that she was still upset by the previous night's conversation. He found her in the bathroom, on her knees, passionately embracing the toilet bowl. And vomiting.

"Bloody Lottie. I was fine. This is psychosomatic. It's the power of suggestion." Helena was still more than capable of engaging her powers of denial when pressed into a corner.

Legolas brought her a glass of water, tucked her back into bed, and went to the chemist's shop round the corner, where in addition to buying the necessary supplies, he had a very nice chat with the motherly woman behind the counter about the best tactics for combating morning sickness. He let himself back into the flat, and appeared in their bedroom with a small cardboard packet and a plate of dry toast together with some ginger biscuits.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

In addition to all the other forms of traffic analysis Galadriel and Mary Sue had been carrying out in their efforts to try to work out from internet chatter what was going on in the other world, Galadriel had come up with a rather nifty algorithm which tracked both Helena and Legolas's bank cards and flagged up any unusual purchases.

Galadriel looked at the alert which had popped up on the screen of her laptop and gave a little scream.

"What has happened now?" Celeborn demanded.

"Legolas... Legolas has bought... he's bought a pregnancy testing kit." There was a stunned silence. Eventually, Celeborn spoke.

"Madam, I am more disappointed in you than I can possibly express. You promised me faithfully that you would not subject him to an MPreg."

**Author's note: ****_Watching the English,_**** by Kate Fox, is a real book, and Dr. Fox is a real anthropologist! Definitely worth a read – it explains why the English talk about the weather all the time, why they drink so much tea, and pretty much advances the hypothesis that as a nation the English are so uptight and romantically inept that without copious amounts of alcohol, they would never succeed in producing little English people. **

**I say ****_they_**** rather than ****_we_**** because I'm a Scot. This of course means I'm mean, dour, a drunkard, and doomed to be ever disappointed as a football fan. I have however lived in England for a very long time now, and have even become sufficiently culturally assimilated to have helped them out in their stiff-upper-lip induced population crisis by producing a little English person of my own.**


End file.
